


Abnormally Attracted to Sin

by catsfromspace



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Demon Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Priest/Demon AU, Semi-Public Sex, Speculative Monster Biology, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25046788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsfromspace/pseuds/catsfromspace
Summary: Father Lukas values his time alone. Pity that he can't seem to get rid of one particularly bothersome pest.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	Abnormally Attracted to Sin

**Author's Note:**

> So, do you cope with your Catholic school trauma with a religion kink too, or are you normal?
> 
> (Also, maybe I am just really, really thirsty for the idea of Peter in a cassock.)

Father Peter Lukas was a pleasant enough revelator, or seemed such at a glance to his congregation. He spoke with conviction; his voice commanded reverence, even in its relative gentleness. It was only after getting too close that the illusion wavered - a handshake that was uncomfortably cold, blessings spoken like threats to each Eucharist recipient, an impatient smile that tightened a little too forcefully in conversation. Members eventually sought excuses not to stop and chat. Altar servers scuttled from the back rooms after mass as quickly as possible to avoid further interaction. Yet, the congregation remained, if for no other reason, out of an unwillingness to leave their church of habit.

In truth, Peter strongly preferred his time alone under no eyes but his own. If he were given a choice in the matter, he would never speak, especially in front of a crowd, and instead hole himself away in his church, tending to plants and minor maintenance. He really wasn’t sure how much he even believed in what he preached. But, he had made his career choice, and now he had to live with the consequences. As far as he was concerned, he could manage to live with them just fine now that visitors were learning to leave him well enough alone.

Except for one visitor, that is.

A soft, slow applause from a single set of hands echoed through the sanctuary. “Another performance delivered convincingly, Father. Well done!”

Peter closed his eyes, his back to the intruder stepping soundlessly up the aisle. “Elias,” he said in a flat tone.

“By all means, don’t get excited on my account.”

Peter briefly turned around to glare with tired eyes. Elias was a polite-looking man, charming even, with his carefully styled hair and neatly trimmed suit. He stood between the first row of pews, back straight and arms tucked behind his back. He could pass as any unassuming stranger if not for his eerily bright green eyes that seemed to illuminate on their own.

It was not the first time that Peter had found himself in this particular presence. There had been an encounter before, as well as one before that. And before that. And, to be perfectly honest, one before that one, too. Every visit began and ended the same: Elias would push Peter’s buttons until, somehow, they would find themselves tangled together in some nook of the rectory, all claws and fangs and curses.

“What do you want this time, Elias?” Peter asked, knowing full well the reason. “Other than to harass me.”

“Just a visit to check up on a dear friend. I’m wounded that you would even imply otherwise.”

Peter snorted.

Elias ignored this. “And not a moment too soon! Dour as ever, it seems. That’s hardly a good look for a holy figure, you know.”

“I’m doing fine, actually,” Peter snipped.

Elias leaned his lower back against the short barrier that kept the kneelers of the first pew.

Peter made a show of trying to ignore him, busying himself with changing out the altar dressing.

“You’re so transparent that it’s almost too easy to be fun,” said Elias. “Tell me, why exactly are you here if you’re so miserable?”

Peter exhaled forcefully out of his nose in annoyance. “Because it is _normally_ very quiet.”

“Oh?” Elias raised his eyebrows in mock concern. “Here I could have sworn that it was just because it’s what your parents wanted.”

“Watch it,” Peter warned.

Elias laughed. “Struck a nerve, did I? We both know it’s the truth.”

Peter set the candlestick in hand down a little too forcefully on the altar. “Why do you keep coming back? Haven’t you gotten what you wanted by now?”

“Because it’s fun to get a rise out of you; because you’re bored and secretly enjoy it; because I like that you Catholics really do have a flair for impressive interior design. The list goes on.” Suddenly, Elias’ voice spoke directly over Peter’s shoulder. “But mostly,” he murmured, his lips lightly brushing Peter’s ear, one knuckle running down the side of his throat, “because I know that you’ll never deny me.”

He continued the trail of his knuckle down Peter’s chest, unfurling his palm over his crotch, his fingers lengthening too far for a human. His nails grew pointed and dark; they snagged and scraped the fabric of Peter’s black cassock as they traced circles around his beginning erection.

“Our rendezvous in the choir loft was lovely last month,” Elias crooned. “Wouldn’t you agree?” He kissed Peter behind the ear. “If you made those delicious sounds during your sermons, perhaps you’d have a larger congregation.”

Peter whirled around, gripping Elias’ wrist. Elias’ grinning face leaned too close to his own.

“Not here,” Peter growled.

Elias delicately took Peter’s cheeks in his fingertips. Two long, slender deep purple tongues flickered out and striped up Peter’s bottom and top lips. Peter softly gasped, and Elias was suddenly upon him in a fervent kiss. He nipped and sucked at Peter’s mouth. His tongues slithered between his lips, trapping Peter’s from each side, guiding it into his own mouth. When he finally released the tongue back to its owner, he bit down harshly on Peter’s bottom lip, eliciting a groan of pain and arousal.

Elias smiled. “Here will do just fine.” He slid to his knees, his long fingers making effortless work of plucking open the front of Peter’s cassock and the matching trousers underneath. He pulled out Peter‘s cock with delicacy and gave a quick lick to the head.

Looking up at Peter with a smug grin, Elias sank his mouth around the erection, immediately taking it to his throat with aching slowness. His tongues slid up from the base to the tip, and he pulled back off of it. The tongues coiled around the length, alternating between tightening and loosening around it.

Peter gripped onto Elias’ hair, to which Elias responded by looking up to make eye contact, his tongues still constricting Peter’s cock. He sank back down onto it without breaking his stare. A third slender eye had slit open vertically on his forehead. He grinned up at Peter around his mouthful.

Peter hissed and yanked Elias forward. He thrust into Elias’ throat, one hand firmly entangled in Elias’ hair and the other bracing himself on the altar to keep his shaky knees from buckling entirely. He thrust harder, more erratically. When Elias clenched the muscles of his throat around the head, it became overwhelming, and Peter came violently down Elias’s throat with a moan closer to a growl.

Elias sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with his hand. He chuckled softly from his throat. “I can’t believe they let a man as depraved as you onto the seminary.”

Peter tried to push Elias away, but Elias snaked his arms around Peter and began to stand.

“Will you just leave me alone for once?” Peter fussed, a bit breathless. “I’m sick of dealing with you.”

“Oh, my darling man.”

Elias, all at once entirely too tall, and thin, and sharp, cocked his head to look down at the face of the priest he held. He rolled his eyes - all enormous six of them radiating across his face from a central point where a nose should be - to look into Peter’s, and his face split across into a razored grin. He leaned down and slithered his tongues up the bits of Peter’s throat that peeked above the cassock’s collar.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Stumbling forward as the body supporting him disappeared, Peter was alone again in his sanctuary, with nothing but his own heavy breaths and faint wisps of smoke curling around his body where limbs and hands once held him.

He looked up at the statue of Mary holding her palms out in what would normally be an invitation to mercy, but now only appeared to be questioning. Peter sighed, and fixed his clothing. He crept to the row of glass votives at the statue’s feet to light a candle in penance.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. 
> 
> Anyways. I'm @CatsFromIo on Twitter/extraclevermongoose on tumblr if you want to drop by to say hi


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